Side Effects
by Graphic Horrors
Summary: Reality is always a troublesome thing. Sometimes, you can deal with it, and sometimes you have to let a little madness slip out. Right?
1. Chapter 1: The Eventual Nightmare

**Because I haven't tapped the IZ base yet. **

**Is there anybody out there that still cares for this amazing show? Regardless, I want to write this; I read something like this a long time ago (like, so many many years ago...). I'll let you know if I remember the book.**

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"Medication doesn't appear to be effective anymore, such a tragedy."

Dib spared a glance up at the dark haired man in the brown suit, dolled with a matching brown tie, and gold plated sleeve cuffs. It was hardly tragic, whatever moronic idea gave the man the impression that his situation was a 'tragedy' was the result of a failure of a severely overpriced education. Clearly.

"Are you taking the new medication?"

The silence echoed in the awkwardly sterile room. Dib's eyes fell to the dull white jacket constricting his arms around his torso, the only thing he wanted to say was 'ow' at that point.

"You absolutely must take the new medication, Dib. Insanity isn't curable, but it's definitely suppressible, despite the teeny-tiny list of side effects related."

For sure, said the man who failed to have a face. "... It's not helping me."

"Sure it is, you're just being stubborn," the man deadpanned, picking up his extra large takeaway cup of mocha (extra cream) from Suebucks.

Dib never questioned how the man managed to drink, because he knew that the man must have facial features (nose, mouth, eyes and so on), surely. He didn't deny something inside his head had snapped, metaphorically or not. It wasn't so bad, it didn't happen all the time, not exactly, but it did happen pretty regularity; at least twice a day every day. For example... That new kid from last year (the one that disappeared 2 months ago) had a _creepishly_ long tail and horns, the old man in room 4377 had a severe case of haemophilia (most noticeably in his eyes, that kind of never stopped bleeding), he never complained, and just last month his own doctor grew ridiculously long fangs and (headlight like) red eyes before he disappeared too. It was stupid, really.

But the girl down the hall in room 3174 was definitely a werewolf, and a girl.

"Dib," the man licked at the seeping corner of the steaming cup, "how many years has it been now since you were brought here?"

He had been transferred to the Crazy House for Boys when he was 12, in the summer, after the accident, or incident, or whatever they called it in the end. "4 years."

"Yes yes, that was it," the man nodded, and took a large gulp of the steaming coffee.

Dib never liked coffee, he drank it once when he was 10 years old and had to leave skool less than an hour later with... Stomach pains to say the least. He preferred caffeine pills way back then, or a good old juice box, man he'd kill for a juice box about now.

"Would it be fair to say that you still miss your family, Dib?"

He frowned, and stared suspiciously at the man, "of course I do."

Despite his father being the one to sign him up for the mad house, and never encouraged his deepest interests or dreams that existed from before he knew how to walk, and his sister who would rather eat some fast food and play video games than aid her brother in his desperate struggles to protect mankind, or generally not die in the process of his various studies. He still missed them, yeah, most definitely, without doubt, nope, none.

"Hmm... Would you still attempt to convince us that werepigs and merdonkeys exist? Is your perception of reality still crooked and idiotic?"

Dib's brow raised, he even nearly smirked. "Depends what you mean by reality." Besides... Werepigs and merdonkeys were extinct now, he'd checked, that sure was a boring weekend.

"I'm sorry?" The man hummed, settling his cup on the cold metal table.

He sighed, and looked to the mirrored wall to his right. "Doesn't everyone perceive the universe differently? Not everyone has the same reality."

"Oh really, now?"

He was being tested again. His eyes perked back to the man before him, "I'm still crazy, if that's what your asking."

He still saw the world the same way as he did years ago, nothing had changed too badly, he still believed in aliens, werewolves, vampires, ghouls, chupacabras (there were _a lot_ of them). His perception had grown a little... Irregular lately, but being locked in a room within a high security building for 4 years does that to people, you know? It was just difficult to differentiate between his own perception and the validly of it.

"Hmm..." The man hummed, clasping his hands together down the table. "Well, that's good to hear."

_Really... _Dib rolled his eyes.

"You're probably wondering what an old crook like me is talking about..." The man chuckled horribly. "Well, recently, we've been receiving complaints about how little space there is in this wonderfully sterile establishment, even after the expansion of 46 new floors, so, we decided you, among others, are stable enough to return to society."

Dib gawked at the man, sitting stiller then than he had before. "I'm... Getting out?"

"That's right" the man waved his hand in a cheerful swing before he gave Dib a thumbs up. "However, there are some conditions, of course."

"... In what way have you concluded any patients to suddenly be safe to return to society, I mean, some of us are really screwed up if you hadn't noticed... The spork guy is psychotic, he killed a cafe, no, I mean, he killed everyone in a cafe. with a spork. And then there's-"

"-There are more serious priorities to take into account, I mean, I've only been working here for 2 weeks, but I believe everyone being kicked out is in perfect mental and physical health."

Dib highly doubted that, but he kept quiet, if it meant he was getting out (not that they would listen to his opinions at this point anyway). "What are the conditions?"

The man smiled, and lifted his Suebucks coffee once more for another taste.

He could always follow up an investigation once he was out, maybe.

...

"My Tallests, it's happened again..."

Red turned his head to the voice that interrupted his midday snacking of jellysmeets with Purple. "What's happened again?" He asked one of the small irkens at one of the many monitors spread around the room.

"On Foodcourtia, sir, Zim appears to have escaped again. I've just received a transmission from his warden; Sizz Lorr, he's expressed his-"

"Again?! You mean he's out... _Again?!_" Purple yelled as he spat out a mouth full of splendidly squished jellies.

Red frowned down at the mess Purple made on the previously clean floor, his antennae flattened against the back of his skull. "_Somebody_, clean that up."

"Yes, sir, immediately," a small irken (what'shisfaceohIdon'tcare) in the corner of the room dashed along to mop up the splattered jellies.

"Now," Red continued, "let me guess, he's on his way here."

"Sir, I'm afraid... He's already here" the irken lowered his antennae and began to visibly sweat.

"What?! You've got to be kidding me! How could he have gotten here so quickly without us knowing?" Red yelled frantically.

"Yeah!" Purple added, less than sneakily stealing what appeared to be Red's packet of Jellysmeets.

"He's very persistent, sirs."

Red sighed, and clawed his face painfully. "Where is he, exactly..."

After a moment of screen tapping tension, the irken replied. "He's making his way through corridor 67.23IC2014, rather loudly."

Red glanced back at Purple, who hid the snacks behind his back, despite it was far too obvious he was still chewing at them.

"What do you want us to do, sirs? Should we restrain him and send him back to Foodcourtia aga-"

"NO! Not this time," Red growled. After nearly ruining the beginnings of Operation Impending Doom 2 with his loud mouthed annoyance of existence, who could single handedly annihilate their entire civilization armed only with that sick little brain of his, and a less than ordinary sandwich filled with the most plain of ingredients... Off track... He was truly disgusting.

"Huh? What are we gonna do?" Purple asked, swallowing the jellies before he could lose them again. "Are we gonna finally kill him?"

"That's impossible, and you know it. I've got a better idea... Something I should have tried a while ago... You there! Yes, you, get someone to escort him here, and quickly."

...

"It's about _time_!"

The soldier rolled his eyes as he turned his back to the greatly smaller irken, and continued towards the main command room of the Massive.

"The Tallests must be so pleased with my most recent actions, finally, they can let me get on with my _job_ rather than sending me off to Foodcourtia again..." Zim continued to ramble as the soldier equally continued to deny any acknowledgement of him.

Zim wasn't exactly bothered by this, everyone seemed to ignore him. He didn't really know why to be honest. The only time anyone seemed to pay attention was when he did something they couldn't ignore, like during Operation Impending Doom 1 for example, which _could_ have gone better, but was still amazing in it's own way. They listened then, and they were listening now. Zim couldn't go ignored, no matter what, he needed a statement of some kind. Going ignored was like not existing at all, and that was the greatest most superior load of absolutely atrocious dookie.

"Proceed," the soldier said. "And by Irk, show some sort of restraint."

"I always show respect!" Zim yelled as he passed the soldier (who shook his head in frustration) and through the sliding metal door to the main command room of the Massive. Restraint was absolutely ridiculous! Where would any of them be if they lived by the word _restraint_... No where, that's where!

"Zim."

He looked up (way up) to his Tallests, who didn't care to move from their spot in the middle of the room. Behind them, Zim noticed, the large window looked out onto the universe (which was so utterly, pathetically destined for doom) was very bright that day, they must have been closer to a sun than he first presumed when he closed in on the Massive.

"My Tallests!" Zim saluted, his tongue stuck out unceasingly to the side. "I'm honored to finally be requested," he dropped the salute and marched closer, passed the line of monitors and technicians "is my place in Operation Impending Doom 2 finalized yet?"

"_Finalized..._" Tallest Purple huffed, before Tallest Red threw a bag of Jellysmeets at his face (which Zim loved, he really loved snacks).

"Yes, Zim. You're place has been determined in our great galactic conquest," Tallest Red announced, even though OID2 was just about complete. "It has taken us a while, but after a lot of thought and consideration we have decided to grant you a _special mission _at the edge of our universe. You will infiltrate and collect information about this planet so that we can eventually take over."

"My _own_ planet to invade?" Zim tested with a high tingling of intrigue in his antennae.

Well, that's what invaders usually got, a planet, of their own, to invade. "Yes, Zim, your very own planet, all by yourself, away from here."

"Where exactly is it?" He asked in a low tone, considering the many possibilities of the new world.

"We aren't exactly sure, it's somewhere at the edge somewhere else," the Tallest Red answered without a trace of certainty.

"Does it have a name?" He asked again, while one antennae perked in confusion.

"We don't know it, nope" Tallest Purple replied with haste.

Zim frowned, and looked away in thought. "But then how am I meant to find this _retched_ _little_ _planet_, my Tallests?"

Tallest Red coughed and turned away to look out the window. "Well, you see Zim. This is why we chose you for this mission. The monstrous little creatures of this planet are so enigmatic and reclusive, we know almost nothing about this planet or it's foolish inhabita-"

"We know more than anyone does!" Tallest Purple added.

Red scowled, before he proceeded, "yes.. More than anyone else in the universe. But we need a superior invader to find this planet and gather information for the Irken Empire. We believe you are this invader, Zim."

_A superior invader... ... ..._

"Zim?" the Tallest Red asked.

"I think he's gonna kill us... He's just staring..." One of the technicians said under their breath.

"He's not that crazy... He's probably just gonna set us on fire, again," another answered.

"Do you not know what he's _capable_ of?..." They continued to whisper.

Zim's antennae twitched at their comments, and he fought back a growl. He'd heard from pretty much everyone the things he'd done, or the things he might do. It was completely inane. It wasn't like it was his fault that he had outbursts of brilliance and uniqueness that no one else could _ever_ replicate.

"Zim? If you don't respond, we're sending you to Blorch to be savaged by highly aggressive rat people," the Tallest Red stated angrily.

"I thought they're all dead, you know, organic sweep, lots'a death and widespread panic and destruction..." Purple rolled his hand, suggesting a moment of doubt.

"Oh yeah..." Red mumbled back.

He shook his head, "my apologies, my Tallests. I was just planning ahead for this highly sensitive mission. I would hate to disappoint the Empire with poor planning when I destroy this pathetic lump of dirt."

"Great! So you'll leave as soon as possible!"

"Of course, my Tallests," Zim looked around questioningly. "But surely, as I am an_ invader_, I should have a proper ship and equipment for such an important mission."

"_Of course you should_..." Tallest Red said with almighty disdain.

"What are we gonna do?..." Purple whispered worriedly.

"Don't worry, we have plenty of stuff spare, defective stuff," Red whispered back. "Uh, you there!" He pointed to the janitor from earlier, "take Zim to receive his _special equipment_..."

The janitor immediately perked with surprise, before his antennae dropped with dread. He then made for direction of the garbage bay without a care to see if Zim followed, which he did after a gleeful salute to his Almighty Tallests.

"... We keep defective stuff around?" Asked Purple in disbelief.

"Yes, and now we have a reason..." He replied, "well, back to galactic conquest and universal enslavement I suppose."


	2. Chapter 2: What'sthisSTUFF?

**Positive feedback, at quick notice? Wow, I'm flattered _blush blush. _So... IZ comic? Anyone excited? :) (I wrote this in the space of 4/5 hours, and it's currently 3 in the morning... I'm so tired, proof reading may be faulty)**

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_Pleasedon'tkillmepleasedon'tkillmepleasedon'tkillme..._

"You seem like a _cheerful_ little thing."

"Eh..." _Eep._

"How endearing that something so small and pathetic can remain full of _glee_..."

What'shisfaceohIdon'tcare shriveled away from Zim as he continued to speak at irregular intervals. He was absolutely terrified, so much so that he smiled for his life with the toothiest smile he could possibly accomplish. "Right this way, sir..."

"I used to be that happy once," he continued happily, "it was the most_ horrible_ time of my _life_. But not now, now I finally go out to freely rain destruction and cruelty down upon an unsuspecting planet..."

"Sounds delightful, sir," What'shisface nodded.

Walking down several corridors (27.8-BIT to be exact), What'shisface couldn't help but notice the many whispers and gasps and grunts and coughing advertised by his fellow janitorial drones and random guards avoiding their duties to stare at the abomination following him.

Zim observed the hallway and the sickly chattering figures. "I remember when things weren't so easy for you little smeet creatures, when you couldn't just hop into a janitorial profession after downloading on Irk. You get things too easy! You should be overjoyed, especially in the presence of an invader! My generation fought and bled for our positions, you people are full of laziness!"

What'shisface noticed that Zim's fists were clenched, pulling down his sides as if he was attempting to control his sudden burst of aggression. "Y-yes, sir! I'm full of appreciation, woo!... Even though I was put here because I didn't show any further growth after five years of existence, so here I am, sir... I've been here now for 3 months... It's great, being able to work so near the Tallests despite the height thing. _Sometimes though, I think I'm just here to make them feel taller... _Not that I mind, really! I'm exhausted a lot of the time, but I'm _okaydokey_!"

"... Pfft, this is taking too long..." Zim announced quietly a moment later, glancing around with the vaguest expression of boredom.

"It's not long now, sir. I assure you!" What'shisface squeeked.

"It better not, my mission awaits me!"

"Mhm..." Answered a small voice.

After a solid 10 minutes of walking, and walking, a bit of yelling at some hopeless bystander (by Zim, of course), and they had arrived at the garbage bay.

"HEY."

What'shisface shrunk back at the suddenness of Zim's voice. "Yes...?"

"What_ is_ this?" He nearly spat.

"I-Uh-Ohnoes-Er-Argh..." Cough-cough-cough. "It's the garbage bay, sir."

After a pause, Zim looked at the large room containing nothing but giant boxes filled with broken pieces of machinery, scattered PAKs, and one box in particular marketed as 'What'sthisSTUFF?'. Zim looked back down at him and waved at all of the junk in the room.

What'shisface's antennae fell and he walked into the room and rummaged around the boxes. "There's some TOPSECRET stuffs down here, that nobody knows about... Well, except me, and that baby rat-person over there."

Zim looked at the corner of the room where a big eyed rat-person chewed aimlessly at it's own foot. "Eh..."

"She's not feeling well at the minute, her entire family was brutally murdered in cold blood. You know, the whole Blorch planet and it went zap and spoosh, I isolated her in a transportation beam and brought her on board," What'shisface smiled with delight. "She won't hurt anyone, I feed her _regularly_," a short, dark giggle proceeded to escape What'shisface.

"..." Zim gave the creature a puzzled look, "neat."

"Nobody talks to me really, so I get away with a few things. You can relate to an extent, right? I hear a lot of things about you from everyone."

Zim picked up a pack of doughnut, and sniffed at the opening of the bag. "My _equipment_, smeet. My mission is imminent."

"O-oh... Yeah..." What'shisface scratched his antennae and hummed, "I have-I... I've made some stuff down here that you _might_ appreciate."

"_Uhuh," _Zim grumbled with disinterest as he threw the doughnut bag away in disgust.

"Let me see here... Nope, nu-uh, nonononono, eh..." What'shisface threw something dark and disgusting away in the baby rat-person's direction. "I actually don't know where that one came from, haha!"

Zim stared blankly at the baby rat-person as she ate what appeared to be half of a decaying squeedily-spooch, and then blinked motionlessly.

"I found it! Yes!" What'shisface cried with joy as he pulled out a deactivated robot that was just a bit smaller than he was. "This _might_ need a bit of fixing, but trust me, it's great when it works! It's a SIR unit, or at least was, or... It could just be a faulty food drone robot thingy... I kept him, because I-"

"_Broken?!_ You give me _defective_ equipment?!"

"And you're not the _slightest_ bit interested in fixing it up?!"

"..."

"I'm sorry..." His antennae flattened. "But it's seriously cool, I've already put the parts together and installed a colour system! Blue! How unique is that?! Fits you perfectly!"

"... What else is there?" He asked with a mild sense of confusion and interest.

"Lots, you can have some of it, but the rest is mine... This is my hobby, you see, what I want more than _anything _is to be an engineer..."

"Mhmm..." Zim hummed whilst he emptied the box labelled 'What'sthisSTUFF?' and put the most decently acquired items inside, leaving out the dookie.

"... That transmitter is mine... It was the first thing I built... It can broadcast over 8 galaxies..."

"Oh really huh..." Zim tossed it out of the box, "_boring_."

The transmitter shattered on the cold metal floor.

"... I'll just build another then..." What'shisface whimpered and swept up the remains.

Zim ignored the pathetic whimpering and sweeping to collect more and more items of interest.

"This will sound weird, okay?"

Zim appeared to be ignoring What'shisface still, staring at a simulation pad; a meek gaming device that was used before even his smeethood.

"You're not like what they keep saying about you," he continued as he put the remains of his old transmitter into a rotten box. "I mean, you're weird and destructive and stuff, but that's it."

"And what do they say exactly?" Zim glanced back at him, before throwing the simulation pad at the baby rat-person, who caught and ate it.

"... Stuff, bad stuff... And some sad stuff, and some scary stuff too."

Zim groaned and moved on.

"They say stuff about me sometimes, so I can understand a bit... Being called defective I mean."

"Defective?"

What'shisface stared with surprise as he recognized a hint of genuine misunderstanding in Zim's voice. He shook his head and smiled a big toothy grin. "Nevermind, take this!"

The broken 'SIR' unit was thrown at Zim, nearly knocking him off his feet. "Don't do that again!"

"Sorry, sir!"

"What would I want with this?! It's disgusting!"

"I think it's good."

"Nobody cares what you think, especially not me."

"... It'll keep you company, it's nice to be around others... When they aren't trying to repeatedly humiliate you or destroy the shreds of dignity or confidence you might have I mean."

"Zim needs no one."

"I want it back then," What'shisface smirked, folding his arms.

"It's mine."

What'shisface giggled, "you're weird!"

...

"Insanitine Suppresicine; for oral use, place one tablet under the tongue once each day. Side effects may include numbess around the mouth, complete loss of speech and an inability to chew or swallow. Intended use for shutting up someone apparently. Now what's the other one... Eterniclide Dethicole; for oral use, swallow before intended rest with water. Side effects may include paralysis, comatose, brain damage, death and in rare cases insomnia and paranoia."

Dib walked down the empty sidewalk, several blocks away from his home, or at least where he thought his home was. He was supposed to be picked up at the mental institute early that morning and driven home, but apparently there wasn't enough funding to provide transportation. It didn't matter, it was late spring, and the sky was a deep orange colour and the birds were chirping aimlessly in the artificial trees planted along the sidewalk.

"This isn't exactly encouraging," spoke Dib out loud to himself. "I mean, brain damage and death kinda defeats the point of trying to help someone get over serious mental illness..." Then again, it would remove a nuisance from society when looking at it from a bigger point of view. "That's still screwed up."

It wasn't a long walk before he reached his house, which was pleasantly still where he remembered it being. "Well... Here goes," he spoke in a sigh as he opened the front door. He was met by the same old living room from his childhood, but no dad, and no Gaz. "Oh... Well I did miss that couch."

Dib closed the door behind him and slumped onto the wonderful old couch. "Sure does beat the metal stools in the Crazy House cafeteria..."

"Oh, you're back?" Came the ring of a familiarly dark feminine voice.

"Oh, Gaz... Hi."

Gaz stood there holding a juice box and a sandwich, she was still dressed the same as he remembered. All seemed normal so far, to an extent. "I was watching that, and you're sitting in my spot."

"Oh, right, sorry." He shuffled over to the other side of the couch, and looked at the tv screen displaying a paused episode of some foreign vampire piggy cartoon.

Gaz sat on the couch, ignoring Dib as though he wasn't there at all.

"Are there any more juice boxes?"

Her eyes seemed to open in a moment to glance at him. "Only if you don't bother me."

"I won't, don't worry. I'm not really in the mood to express my interests and obsessions at the minute. But I'd kill for a juice box..." He jested.

"You know where they are," she concluded, taking a bit out of her sandwich before pressing play on the remote control.

It was grapefruit flavoured, but that was okay. It was still worth it.

"They cancelled Mysterious Mysteries."

"Oh, did they?"

"The host killed himself and nobody replaced him."

"Ah..." He finished the juice box and threw it in the trash can. Good old trash can, being where he remembered. "What season did it finish at then?"

"... I dunno, two if you count the unfinished one."

"That quick...?" Dib sighed as he scratched his head. "I knew that guy... Don't remember his name though, strange."

"Go away, Dib. You're bothering me."

"... Right... Well, I'll see you later then..." Dib muttered and made for his room.

His room was still the same, surprisingly. A bit dusty, and missing his old posters and books and paranormal collections, but still the same otherwise. "Must've been dad, after the accident..."

He jumped onto his bed, and opened the window to look out at the street. Someone passed by his house dolled in a menacing clown suit, followed by a giant lizard like tail. "It doesn't exist, it doesn't make sense..."

He fell back against his dark blue sheets and hit against something sharp. "Argh! What the hell was that?" He asked, searching under the sheets. What he found was the unfinished season two of Mysterious Mysteries of Strange Mystery, with a sticky note on it which read 'shut up and keep things to yourself.'

"Oh, I guess I owe Gaz now..." He smiled briefly.


	3. Chapter 3: Okay

**Well, as I regard this section as 'auth****or notes', I will give my thoughts on stuff now. I think cheese is great, but sometimes it's bad. My loyalty to bacon is without question though.**

**Yeah. Alright, onto my main points. My reviewers so far (as I was writing this, feel no offence future/past reader). **

**Invader Johnny; as my first reviewer, I thank you good sir, I needed the acknowledgement to feed my pride. **

**Constellation Temptation; I like your name, it's fun to say. **

**And to Guest; you're suspicious, I've got my eye on you. Seriously though Guest, I loved your review, very informative (hence this). ****I read JTHM years ago, only recently have I started reading Squee and I Feel Sick, loved them by the way. (I love Pepito and Squee too much). Great, now I have to write a Squee and Pepito fic after this... Pairings. Pairings. Pairings. Well, sadly there will be some serious Gir and Pig Romance going on.**

**Thank you, reviewers and fellow lurkers.**

**I would like to apologize for the slow pacing this story seems to have, it'll pick up soon, I think.**

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_"I can't do this anymore! What's the point? My reputation is ruined! I'll never have anything else. NOBODY cares about this dumb show! But... I can still make things better, make it all clearer."_

_The room shook with an alarmed progression as the profaned chuckles echoed down the hall after he who made them. Vision blurred, heart hammered, teeth gritted, hands trembled. Into the room he went, straight for the cluttered desk below his reflection. It was there he found his lover's remains; though years of neglect had not damaged her beauty. He embraced her, and pressed his forehead to hers._

_Endearingly, he smiled and held her tightly as he lamented. "This is the only truth we can ever know."_

Bang.

Dib stared profusely at the white screen of his laptop. The glare of the screen tore at his sockets so that he may not close them again.

"They can't show this! This is insane, it's cruel! It's only rated 15!"

"The special features on this really do fulfill expectations."

Dib stared behind him widely as he acknowledged the foreign entity. There was a boy standing in the doorway dressed just as darkly as his sister. His eyes were red and twisted and beamed in his direction. From his head a small pair of pointed horns greeted the thin, unkempt strip of black hair. In his hands was the box set of Mysterious Mysteries with the face of the host printed on the cover (the dead face with a bullet through it's skull, and little aliens in spaceships flew out of the hole).

"Who are you?! And what are you doing in my house?"

The boy bowed his head with deafening resolution as he announced himself. "I am known by many names..."

Dib blinked, and glanced away momentarily.

"... Son of the dark prince, child of darkness, some call me the alter boy of doom, others will know me as the second coming of damnation... My mom calls me Pepito."

"..."

"Behind me, wandering around aimlessly in your hallway is my dear friend Squee."

"What are you doing here?" Asked Dib with a suspicious hint of curiosity.

"Your delightful sister invited us over to play Call of Battlepig 9: Zombie Hogfare this evening. I should hope you express no _protest,_" a seemingly demonic glow emitted from the strange boy.

"I uh..."

A nervous voice squeaked down the hallway. "Where am I?... I was just walking home when something grabbed me... Hello?"

"I'm coming, amigo! Just wanted to see my dad's work!" Pepito turned a glare at Dib and raised a brow, allowing one eye to appear far bigger than the other. "He works with _everybody._"

The boy left the room in a cloud of evil smoke, mumbling a cheerful little tune. "_Toddy McToddTodd~"_

Dib watched as his box set floated over to his bed and landed on his pillow. The face of the dead host faced up.

"... That was weird."

As he turned back to his laptop to eject the disc inside. With a great and hesitant stare he readied to put the disc into it's case. However, a feeling returned to him. An old feeling. He glanced about his empty room, void of all that he loved. The walls were stripped bare, the collections of haunted gummy bears and fossilized chocolate flavoured dragon saliva were all gone. All of it gone.

He didn't know what was real anymore, not after the accident. Which _was_ an accident, because he regretted it now.

With a silent sigh, he broke the disc in his hand and threw all of the remains into the trash can beside his bed. Strange deformed ghosts manifested, and floated up from the wreckage.

Dib sat there with his legs dangling over the edge of his bed, he swung them as he acknowledged the void, and then the sounds of gunfire and screeching hogs, and yelling became apparent down the hallway.

"Here I am again," he spoke in the empty room.

It didn't work, which was why he regretted it now. _He_ was still alive, and everyone seemed to take pleasure in reminding him.

...

In the vast space that was space, a single irken voot cruiser lurked around in search of whatever it might happen to come across.

Zim had been attempting to activate the stupid little robot for weeks now, and nothing. Absolutely nothing. A groan escaped him easily for the thousandth time, "that little...! Agh! This thing is useless!"

Zim threw the robot at the other side of the smallish ship and stared out of the window in frustration. "That _horrible_ _little_ _creature_... If I weren't so busy I would _destroy_ him."

Zim continued to do nothing but stare out the window at the stupid universe.

A yawn was heard, the sound came from an area outwith his sight. With his antennae perked and he looked around in confusion. "_Computer_, stop yawning, it's annoying."

"What you _sayeee_?"

Zim's eyes widened as he scanned the ship, which to his frustration appeared empty of life, except of course himself. "Whose there?!"

"Ohhhhhh AHAHAHA."

Zim looked up and gaped, staring at that stupid little robot that had been bugging him for weeks on end. "You! You've activated! But _how_?!"

The robot smiled and fell in onto Zim's lap giggling.

"Answer your master!"

The robot stood on the control board and saluted, "Gir, reporting for duty," it announced with sudden red eyes.

"Gir?" Zim frowned, tilting his head. "What does the G stand for?"

Gir returned to a stagnant blue and shrugged, "Iuhuh."

Zim paused for a moment, frowning with a silent edge to his thoughtful expression.

Gir hummed, rubbing his hand under his chin in an attempt to mimic Zim's analytic posture. All of a sudden, his head opened and a small, fat irken was launched out and into the back of the ship, whose massive body barely missed Zim.

"AHH!" Screamed Zim.

"AHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AHHHHHH AAAAAHH AHA AHA AHAHHH..."

"What happened?!... I'm alive? I survived!" The irken spoke with esteemed joy as he wiped the molten candy sticks from his stained shirt.

Meanwhile, Gir continued to scream in the background.

"Wait a minute... Skoodge! What are you doing?! This is _my_ mission!" Zim screamed, jumping up from his seat.

"What? Mission?" He scratched his head and stared in confusion.

Zim growled and threw the still screaming Gir at Skoodge, which hit the poor sick Skoodge like the piece of robotic metal it was. "Get _out_!"

"OW!" Skoodge yelled as he lifted himself up, while Gir hung onto his antennae, pulling his weight down in front of him. "Make it stop!"

"I said get _out_ of _my_ ship!"

"I can't, lemme go, ahhh!" Skoodge tried to reach the robot to pull him off, but the little abomination already let go, and fell to the floor. "Oh _wow_... That _thing._.. Is _insane_!" He panted, holding his antennae painfully.

Zim growled once more, and pushed a button on the flashing screen in front of him, removing the window of the voot cruiser. After grabbing the happy smiley Gir, he pushed Skoodge out into the cold vacuum of space, screaming horribly as he flew. The window returned to normal, and Zim let go of Gir, who admittedly still held onto Zim.

"Get off of Zim."

"No!"

"..."

"Okay!" Gir cheered and pushed his metallic face against the window. "Woohooo! Look at dat! And dat! And dat! Ohhhh... And DAT!"

Zim sighed, and stared lazily out of the window. Part of him preferred the little robot deactivated. Part of him however, appreciated less silence.

"AHAHAHAHAHA! WAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

To an extent.

...

Skoodge sighed, and hovered around through the lack of atmosphere complacently. "Well, it can't get much worse. At least I'm alive again."

Immediately after he spoke, he was hit by another spaceship, similar to the last three who refused to pick up a hitchhiker. Especially him to be honest; irkens conquering the universe and all that. Then again, wouldn't that make them more likely to be like 'hey, he'll track us down and kill us if we don't help'? Oh well.

"AHHH! Let me in!" He screamed, face rippling against the window of the ship. "Come on, please!"

"Remove yourself from the front of my ship," said she.

"I can't! I just need a lift somewhere, anywhere! I'm useful, come on! I could help with stuff!"

"..."

A pair of window wipers ran across the window, moving Skoodge back and forth.

"This is tiresome, get off and continue your aimless drifting through space."

Skoodge mumbled, still being swept back and forth.

"... Wait a second," she said suddenly, as if realizing something somewhat important.

The window opened and Skoodge fell into the ship, which was quite similar to Zim's, and any irken ship really.

"Thanks!" He cheered. "I owe you big time! You have no idea how long I was wandering out there!"

"Yes, well, what is your name?"

"Uh? Invader Skoodge?"

She nodded slowly in acknowledgement and thought. "Why were you... Out there?" She gestured outside with a hint of confusion.

"... Well, uh... Some stuff happened..."

She nodded again, "go on."

"Well, I got shot out of a cannon onto Blorch, which was pretty bad, and then got onto some sort of ship. There was this _creepy_ little guy... He was gonna do _horrible_ things..." Skoodge shuddered.

She looked even more confused, only this time, she was starting to lose her patience.

...

"Okay Scampy! Snack time!" What'shisface cheered, looking into a box near the back of the room, only to find some snapped rope and a note which said; _Thanku for da yum yums, love sir chickenlegs! Bye!_

What'shisface stared widely at the slip of paper for minutes, before screaming out. "Great! Just great!"

What'shisface threw the box, and several other random objects across the room.

Scampy, the slaughtering rat person baby, imitated the destructive frustration, only she was smacking her head against some broken machinery.

"Now I have to find some other rejected creature to harvest your snack meats from..." What'shisface groaned and left the garbage bay with a mop and bucket.

...

"I got eaten by this freakish little robot... Then got shot outa that, then Zim turned up, and shot me out of his ship... Again."

"_Zim_?" She perked hesitantly.

"Yeah, he's kinda always been trouble, you know? Blowing things up and shooting me outa stuff." He stood there, scratching his head, surprised he hadn't been shot out of _her_ ship.

"Hmm..."

"..." He looked left and right about the ship awkwardly.

"Well then, as the conqueror of Blorch, I imagine you're quite busy," she spoke, looking out the window.

One of his antennae perked, "... Not _really_."

"Oh, how fortunate... I would like to make an offer to you then."

"Oh? Offer?" His head tilted.

"Yes, an offer. I could _use_ your talents... Whatever they might be."

"Not really much of 'em, but _okay_!"

"Alright, so then it's a deal?"

"I don't really know what I'm agreeing to..."

"That's the point," she noted, lifting a finger as a metaphorical point.

"Well... So long as I don't get shot out of anything, or shot at, or blown up, I guess it's a deal," he nodded.

"Very well, then."

"... So uh..."

"Tak, it's Tak."

"Oh, okay, Tak!"


End file.
